The spirit of the restless and free roams over the land.
Born on the wind, four legs carry him-tail flying behind like a flag.
Hooves thunder over the plains like a wildfire.
His bold heart beats strong and sure.
Strange new scents on the air excite him.
His withers ripple.
From a precipice the majestic wanderer, emboldened with pride, rears up.
King of his domain.
Only when he reaches the secluded valley does he finally rest.
A cool meandering stream calms his spirit.
Moldy, musty smells calm his soul.
Tender in his vulnerability, he lingers with his female.
The wild mustang are gone now.
But, some people are fortunate enough to carry the mustang’s medicine in their hearts.
They feel the call of this wild free spirit.
May your mustang spirit always have plains to roam and a valley to rest in.
by Joli Spencier
Also by Joli Spencier